josh

me: dude, that gun is real isn't it?
josh: yeah, it's my dad's. he says being an assistant DA automatically makes him a deputy sheriff in this county.
me: oh right. . . um he isn't coming home tonight right? (nervous giggle)
josh: (pause . . . blank stare) no, u have those pills?
me: yeah sure here, my co-worker said she got a different script anyhow, she said these made her barf
josh: right, what did she get this time?
me: i don't remember, but i think these ones are stronger anyhow
josh: cool, these are all for me?
me: yeah, yeah. . . um, its not my thing.
josh: ok, thanks
me: so you really like looking at yourself in the mirror with that gun to your head don't you?
josh: um, yeah.
me: what do you think about?
josh: movies where dudes get their brains get splattered on a wall.
me: makes sense. do you want to die?
josh: of course.
me: oh. you into pain?
josh: not really.
me: cool, cool. but you won't really do it right?
josh: i want to watch it. like in super slow motion. if i could do it and be outside my body and be able to watch it again and again for eternity i would do it. but i know if i really do it i won't be able to watch. it'll just all be over. and no one would be able to appreciate it. especially my fucking asshole father.
me: true. hey why do you snort it?
josh: cause it's gonna make me barf. i don't want to waste any.
me: ah